


Smart Wars- Episode IV

by cranewave



Series: Smart Wars- all the Jokes [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2018-11-30 11:25:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11462607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranewave/pseuds/cranewave
Summary: The Empire at war! Rebells and Warmtroopers fight across the galaxy. As Obi-don Quixote and Luke Skyjockey travel to Alderaan with pilot Han Scoldo and his first mate, Cublocca, the dreaded Darth Waiter is in pursuit.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the Corwin Russel School at Broccoli Hall](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+Corwin+Russel+School+at+Broccoli+Hall).



Deep Space above Tattooine. An obsenate shuttle and a Stir Destroyer fly close to the atmosphere. Blaster bolts are exchanged. The obsenator ship is crippled. The Stir destroyer forces the other ship to dock inside it.  
[inside the damaged ship] rebells move to take up places by the door, aiming their bellblasters at the door. Card2-D2 and CD-3P0 are walking down a corridor, rebells rushing this way and that about them. “This is definitely it, mon. ain’t no way th’ good Cappo gonna get out of this one,” CD-3P0 says to his internal beat. “Beet beet jool!” Card2-D2 comments, as the two move through the corridors, going nowhere in particular, just away from the fighting. “Deet deet bleep.” Card2 pipes up, and reaches out his spade-class servo to plug into the ship’s wall, opening a hidden door, which leads to an unrefined corridor designed for robots, droids, and some especially annoying insurance automatons to pass undetected through the ship without hampering the organic life forms. “I say, my droid, nice play, my droid!” CD-3P0 pipes up. “We c’n travel in style, thank th’ makah!” The two droids enter the corridor, and the door swings closed.  
[back by the rebells] there is a hustling on the other side of the docking door, and the barrier is cut away. Warmtroopers pour into the corridor, and the rebells begin firing. Too hot in their armor to think or aim properly, the warmtroopers begin to shoot back without taking cover. Blasts of heat and sound fly towards the rebells and warmtroopers respectively, and the battle ensues. A few rebells are cut down, as well as many warmtroopers, when the ominous clink of glasses filled with fine wine fills the air as the dreaded Server of the Emperor, He who Gets Tiny Tips, Darth Waiter appears! Drawing his dreaded Checksaber (suited in equal parts for laying waste and rounding out the evenings of diners) he advances, deflecting soundbolts back towards those who shot them. The rebells are felled. Those who survive are brought before Darth Waiter, and he force-lifts the Rebell captain above his head.  
"Where are the plans!" Darth Waiter demands.  
"I don't know what-ghk!" the rebell captain replies. "what plans you are talking about. Ghk!" The Rebell captain dies. Darth Waiter casts him aside.  
"Go and find those who hide from me. I want them _alive_ "  
"yes, sir" a warmtrooper pipes up.  
[in the service corridors] "Card2-D2, where did ya go, mon?" CD-3P0 asks. Looking around, he spots his cardesque companion with a passenger. she looks familiar, with cinnamon-bun hair and a ladle tucked securely in her elbow. she hears a noise, and turns quickly. she presses a button on Card2, then tells him to go. as she moves off in a different direction, she attracts the attention of several warmtroopers.  
"there's one! set for Stun." a warmtrooper pipes up. the lady flicks her ladle, and a blaster bolt springs from the scoop, catching the warmtrooper in the chest, killing him. another warmtrooper fires, the heatblast a sunny, warm yellow. exhausted from the heat, the strange lady collapses, stunned. in all the commotion, Card2-D2 and CD-3P0 escape unnoticed. Unbeknownst to them, this is as the stranger intended. Card2 makes his way to an escape pod, and opens it.  
"get away from there, mon, or y'll be deactivated for sure." CD-3P0 calls to his playing-card companion, who bleeps and swears indignantly. "Secret mission? What secret mission, yo? why does it entail gettin' near where we aint aught ta go?" the golden droid keeps complaining as he steps into the escape pod with his companion. 

[back with Darth Waiter] several warmtroopers drag the cinnamon-bun haired lady into the presence of Darth Waiter. he glowers down from his impressive height, the wineglasses held steady on the tray in the palm of his left hand. in a cold sweat, the warmtroopers that delivered the woman to him back away quickly, trying to make it seem like they weren't backing away. they avoided his wrath, barely. oblivious to the actions of his warmtroops, Darth Waiter and the stranger glare into each others' eyes. it is the Dark Lord of the Sith that finally breaks the silence.  
"Princess Ladle." he says simply.

"the Imperial Obsenate will not stand for this! attacking an Obsenate Shuttle on a diplomatic mission, you-"

"you are on no diplomatic mission, princess. you are a part of the Rebell Alliance. and as for the Obsenate, none will compromise! they're still on the issue of billing the Trade Federation for the resources used in the war." the Checksaber appears, the blade activated and pointed in Ladle's general direction. Darth Waiter grumbles under his breath, fiddling with the controls until the blade retracts and a digital display appears. checks and balances scroll across the screen, until finally Darth Waiter brings up the proposed bill for the Trade Federation. "this is the standing bill for the Federation. the argument is going no better than when you left. they are infuriating. now where are the plans you stole?"

as the Server of the Emperor looms over the Princess, a warmtrooper approaches, still holding a short straw in his hand. "uh, sir, the plans. i have some bad news. bad news about the plans, sir." Darth Waiter rounds on the warmtrooper. "speak. what is the bad news. you will be punished no worse than you deserve." emboldened, the warmtrooper manages to say "sir, the plans. they're not, uh, not in the ship's main computer. a single escape pod was launched after the docking, but there were no, um, no life-forms in it, so we didn't destroy it. we thought it was a malfunction until we scanned the computer. we think that the plans are in the escape pod." Darth Waiter slashed the warmtrooper with his checksaber, now returned to weapon form, and the trooper fell. " bring me those plans!" the Dark Lord exclaimed.


	2. Luke

Tattooine. A desert covered in ink-like scribbles, home to ink farmers and cantinas. Tourist attractions: the Sea of Sand, the Dunes of Sand, many hourglass shops, and the best tattoo parlor in the Outer Rim. This is where the two droids crashed in their escape pod, at the edge of the Sea of Sand. In one direction, rocky protuberances spring up towards the sky, and in all others, the Sea of Sand continues unabated. Card2 bleeps something about heading towards the rocks.

"Well, I'm not going that way, yo! It looks awful." Card2 bleeps something. "Don't get technical wit' me, yo. Not unless ya want to receive a hearty helpin' of mah gilded foot." The two part ways.

[hours later] CD-3P0 is in the middle of the desert, complaining to his beat. "Th' li'l trickster. He tricked me to a'coming this way. Now all o' tha sand's corruptin' mah voice chip." On the horizon, he sees a giant monolithic vehicle. "Thank tha kzzt makah!" The Protocol Disc cries out. "Over here! Over here!" the vehicle moves towards him, and little brown-cloaked creatures with big teeth approach from a hatch inside.

[by Card2-D2, a few hours ago] Card2-D2 was trundling along in a rocky ravine, some miles from where CD-3P0 was. The little AstroJack Droid detected movement around him, but the sand and rock were messing with his sensors, so the little Droid paid no attention to the readings. Behind him, a few strange brown-cloaked creatures with huge jaws and teeth were stalking closer. When the strange creatures had surrounded the machine, one of them pulled out a strange rifle, which seemed to have a mouth-shaped tip. The Jaw-a that held the shockblaster aimed it at the back of the droid’s head, and pulled the trigger. With a cry of “Jaaak,” the little droid went down. He saw the strange creatures as his sensors went offline.

[hours later] Card2-D2 awakes in a strange place, his sensors rebooting. Suddenly, a familiar voice pipes up: “Card2-D2! It IS you!” He looks over and sees CD-3P0 coming towards him, glad to see him.

“Where do you think we’re going, my droid?” The Protocol Disk asks. Card2-D2 bleeps noncommittally. As CD-3P0 continues to wimble and worry to his beat, Card2-D2 approaches and starts to fix his friend up. Before long, CD-3P0’s voice chip and joints are back to normal, and his “stylish exasperation” at his smaller companion vanishes temporarily. “Thank ya, my droid. Now that I’m fixed, ah can face whatevah I need to.”

While the Protocol Disk and Astrojack droid have their bonding moment, the Jaw-a monolith grinds to a halt outside an ink farm with a horse-speeder and a GMC pickup truck parked in the garage. A grizzled ink farmer and a young man in a jockey’s cap come out of the building to meet the Jaw-as that are unloading a group of droids, including Card2-D2 and CD-3P0. The various droids, robots, and automatons line up before the pair of ink farmers, the threatening positions of the oversized rifles and the restraining bolts not giving the unfortunate captives much choice. They silently wait to see what will unfold.

As Luke Skyjockey and his uncle, Owen Cars, exit the ink farm to meet the Jaw-a scavengers and salesmen, Luke’s aunt, Bureau Cars, calls out to him. “Hey Luke! Don’t forget to remind your uncle to get a droid that can rap in Bocce. And tell him that I don’t need a droid to put the laundry away.”

“I’ll try, Aunt Bureau, but I’m not sure we have much choice this time. The pickings seem slimmer than a wild foal” the young man replies before hurrying to catch up with Owen. After the two confer quickly and quietly, Owen walks up to a disk-shaped golden droid whose optics seem fashioned to look like sunglasses.

“Droid! What’s your designation and model!” the elder ink farmer snaps at the golden disk, which responds promptly. “I am CD-3P0, human-jukebox relations. I am a protocol disk fluent in over 3,000 songs, including-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you rap in Bocce?”

“Why yes, sir! Bocce is the language that many of mah songs are originally written in, and translating them is one of my functions. Of course I can rap in Bocce, mon!”

“Can you inspire Inkerators?”

“Of course, sir! My first job was to inspire a group of Sluloths by singing war songs, and I might add that th’ li’l-”

“Great.” Owen turns to one of the Jaw-as and says “we’ll take him. And an astrojack droid too. That one.” he points to a red Card5 unit with a conical top. “How much?”

Luke beckons the two selected droids out of line, and escorts them towards the garage as Owen yells at the Jaw-a about the price of hubcaps and droids. Right as negotiations conclude, the Card5 unit’s top blows out, getting the attention of all the organic creatures present.

“Uncle, I think that this Card5 droid has a faulty cardburetor!” the young jockey calls. Owen swears and rounds on the Jaw-a, face red as he yells. CD-3P0 gets Luke’s attention, then points to Card2-D2.

“Beggin’ yo’ pardon, mon, but I believe I may be able to suggest a suitable replacement. That astrojack is in prime condition, and is highly intelligent. He should be a more than worthy replacement for the failed purchase that yo’ uncle made.”

Seeing that the protocol disk is correct, albeit exaggerating a bit labeling the indicated unit as in ‘prime’ condition, young Luke called out to his uncle. “Hey, Uncle Owen, I think that one might be worth what we paid for this one.” Owen debated with the Jaw-a, and ended up getting Card2 for what he paid for the other astrojack. As Luke brought the two droids into the garage, Owen continued to haggle over car parts.


	3. Of Dreams and Princesses

Luke Skyjockey stood above the lip of the family dwelling, looking up at the stars. Biggs had left, Sparky had left, Chica had left. So many of his friends were gone, out in the galaxy, doing something other than farming ink. He and a few of his friends, including Jaxx and Windy, were the only teenagers in the area that were left, and Jaxx spent most of his time working on the family skyhopper. 

All Luke wants is to get off Tattooine. And he’s stuck here as long as his uncle needs him on the ink farm.

Bureau interrupts Luke’s reverie. “Luke! I’m shutting down the exterior power! Come inside!” Luke turns and goes inside, down to the garage where the two droids are waiting for him. As CD-3P0 is lowered into the oil bath, Luke sets about cleaning up Card2-D2.

“You’ve got some carbon scorching on your chassis. Looks like you’ve seen some action, buddy.” he glances at CD-3P0. “Both of you.”

“Oh yes, sir, more than our fair share. You would weep for us if yo knew how much time we’d been duckin’ from shelter to shelter.” CD-3P0 chimes in from where he relaxes in the oil bath. Luke pays him no mind, focusing on cleaning Card2-D2. He takes a tool from his kit and pries at something in Card2’s chassis. “Looks like you got something jammed here, buddy. Let’s see if I can…” he pulls at the lever, and a piece of debris goes flying out of Card2’s chassis. At the same time, a recording of a woman in white robes carrying a ladle activates.

“Help me, Obi-don Quixote! You’re my only hope!”

Instantly, Luke’s attention is riveted on the woman. There is clearly more to the recording than is playing, and he wants to see it. “Who is she?”

“Help me, Obi-don Quixote! You’re my only hope!”

Card2 bleeps and CD-3P0 translates.

“He says that th’ restrainin’ bolt is preventing the full playback of the message. A fully probable story, yo, as the restrainin’ bolts hold such things as weapons systems in check, and a laser caster is an amplified hologram caster.”

“Yeah, I know that part. Let’s see, where’s that- ah, here it is. Now, let’s get that bolt off of you.” Luke takes the tool and removes the restraining bolt. As soon as it disconnects, the hologram vanishes completely, baffling the teen.

“Where’d she go? Bring her back, you ambulatory deck of cards!” he exclaims, and the little droid bleeps and whistles.

“Yo, that’s just bull, my droid.” CD-3P0 chimes in, and Luke looks at the protocol disk, asking “Why? What did he say?”

“Th’ little glob o’ grease says he doesn’t know what yo talkin’ ‘bout, but would be willin’ ta play you in any game of cards yo wish. Junker,” comes the rapidly rapped reply, along with a kick to the astrojack droid. “Look, yo, I now want ta know who th’ woman is as much as yo do.”

“You don’t know who she was? I thought you would, didn’t you two come from the same place?”

“So far as ah know, she was a passenger on our last journey, and was hidin’ from tha warmtroopers. Why anyone has ta hide from them, ah don’t know, they can’t hit a planet wit’ their aim, but she was hiding from them nonetheless.”

“It’s too late in the day for this. I gotta go to dinner then bed. We’ll discuss this in the morning, Card2, so be sure to check your memory banks for that recording!”

Luke goes to dinner with his aunt and uncle, where he is told to go to Anchorhead the next day to wipe the droids’ memories. Little does he know that he will never get to do such. As a matter of fact, by this time tomorrow, tragedy will have fallen...


End file.
